Where Oh Where
by Evelyn McKae
Summary: Sequel to "Oh, Hell".  A few snapshots of Jake and Ronnie's lives after the wrap up of "Oh, Hell."  Won't make any sense unless you read that first. One-shot. JacobOC


So...I lied. And wrote a sequel. And the style's a little different, which annoys me, but I like the way it is. It's a one-shot. And you're all going to hate me. This probably wasn't what you were expecting. Essentially, it's just snapshots of their lives for the next few years, and, well, it's what it is. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Song (c) Queens of the Stoneage, Twilight (c) Stephanie Meyers.

_Where oh where have you been, my love?_

_Where oh where can you be?_

"Ronnie, I don't think this is a good idea," my mom groaned, rubbing her eyes. I sighed, and kicked at the packed bags sitting by the door. My mom has been on my case for the last three weeks, after I told her I was moving out of my dad's house. Finally. After four years of online schooling. Mom was there to help out, whether or not she liked it. "You don't have a steady job, a steady income, you don't know anything about the real world! You didn't even go to a _real_ college!"

Ouch.

Guess we know how she felt about my choice of schooling.

"Mom, I've already decided, and you know why I didn't go to a real college, as you so wonderfully put it. It was my decision, and I don't regret an instant of it. I'm moving out, and there's nothing you can say about it, okay? God, Mom, I'm 21, for chrissakes. If I'm not going to learn about 'real life' now, when the hell am I going to do it?" I asked, completely exasperated. Judging by the way the vein by her temple was throbbing, she wasn't thrilled by my word choice.

"Ronnie, I just think that you could maybe go to grad school or something. U Dub has a wonderful science program—"

"Mom!" I interrupted, heaving the bags into my arms. I've never felt like more of a girl than when I realized how heavy those damn bags were. "Not happening!"

I walked outside, fuming. After so many years, she was still overbearing. But all of that flew out of my head as soon as I saw him standing next to that damn truck of his, smirking that smirk, and looking at me like I was the entire reason he enjoyed life.

"Hey, babe," he said, his voice smooth and husky.

"Hey, Jake," I smiled, loving the feel of his lips against mine.

_It's been so long since the moon has gone_

_And oh what a wreck you've made me._

"Um, Jake?"

"Yeah?" he asked, sticking his head into the kitchen.

"What's that?"

He followed my finger and stared at the sink.

"That," he said, pausing, looking for an appropriate excuse, "is an experiment."

"Oh, is it?" I asked, my eyebrow nearly at my hairline. "Because it kinda looks like dishes that haven't been washed since last week. When I left to visit my mom. And it kinda looks like it's growing something."

"Yeah…about that," he grinned. I smirked back at him, amused because he thought he was getting out of this. His hands snaked around my waist, pulling me tight and close, making butterflies pop out of nowhere. "I was just waiting for you to get back because I just love doing the dishes with you."

His lips brushed mine, oh so irritatingly and seductively.

"Oh, is that right?" I murmured, running my hand through his hair, and grinning when I saw the way his eyes closed for a split second. "Well…

"That sucks," I said, pulling away from him and throwing a dishrag into his face. "After you're done, you can meet me in the shower."

Smirking, I ran down the hall, leaving Jake to do the damn dishes himself.

_Are you there, over the ocean?_

_Are you there, up in the sky?_

I didn't like being irrational. But that's what I was doing at two AM on a Wednesday morning. Jacob hadn't come home yet, and he was supposed to get off at ten. He was four hours late. Four. Hours. Where in fuck's name was he?

I resisted the urge to dial his number for the tenth time in as many minutes. I didn't want to be one of those girlfriends who completely freaked out anytime something was different, but…he was _four hours late_. He'd never been this late before. Maybe I should just call Billy—

"Babe?"

I dashed into the living room, grinning from ear to ear. A ridiculous amount of weight lifted off my chest as he wrapped his arms around me, the bitter smell of beer on his breath as he kissed me. I buried my face in his shirt, inhaling. I'd forgotten how _good_ he smelled all the fucking time.

"I thought you died," I mumbled, still breathing him in. "You didn't call or anything—"

"I know, and I'm so sorry, Ronnie," he said, his voice low and husky. "But I had something to do, and I had to talk to the guys first."

I started being irrational again. All kinds of things ran through my head: was he breaking up with me? oh god, is he cheating on me? what if the vampires are back? what if someone was hurt or—

He got down on one knee.

Well.

I wasn't expecting _that_.

"Jacob, what are you doing?"

"Veronica Jean—"

"Jake, get up."

"—Williams, will you—"

"Oh, my god."

"—shut up? God, I'm trying to say something here."

"Sorry, I just, oh god, Jake!"

"Veronica Jean Williams, will you marry me?"

I stared at him a moment too long, his smile fading only slightly. And I realized what he was thinking. He thought I didn't want to marry him. He thought I didn't love him enough. But I _did_! I _did_ want to marry him! Tears were suddenly streaming down my face as I tackled him to the ground and nodded my answer into his chest, not trusting my voice. He laughed and hugged me tight, and I prayed to whatever that I'd have those arms around me for the rest of my life.

_Until the return of my love_

_This lullaby._

"I'm marrying Jake."

The silence that met this statement was almost epic. Truly.

My parents were sitting as far apart as they could, and my step parents were protectively slinging their arms around their respective spouse. And none of them looked happy. Honestly, you'd think a girl would get a little praise, or at least a congratulations, when she announces to her family that she's marrying the guy she's been in love with since, I dunno, sixth grade?

But no. You know what a girl gets? Awkward stares, and the feeling that somehow, this is going to go very badly.

"Are you pregnant?" Laura asked, her smirk making the wrinkles on her face grow bigger. I just glared at her. She didn't deserve an answer. My mom's eyes flashed between me and Laura, before a groan escaped her lips.

"Oh, god, you are pregnant, aren't you?" Mom moaned, burying her face in her hands. My jaw dropped. What the _fuck_?

"Are you serious? Mom, what—I—ugh!" I yelled. "I couldn't possibly be in love with the guy, could I? No, no _way_ could that be the reason for marrying him. No! I've got to be _knocked up_! Silly me, I'll go work on that. Be back in about a week."

I grabbed my coat and slammed the door, tears stinging my eyes. I wiped them away as I heard footsteps running behind me. I ignored them and sped up my pace to my car.

"Ronnie," my dad called, putting a hand on my shoulder. "Ronnie, hon, listen. It's not that we're not happy for you, it's just so sudden. I mean, you're so young! You're only twenty-two, you have your whole life ahead of you. Don't you want to maybe wait and see what happens?"

I sighed, shrugging his hand off. "Dad, I've been dating Jake since I was seventeen. We've been living together for the past year and a half, and we're _happy_, Dad. And Jake—he wants to _marry_ me. Me! He wants to take it to the next level, and Dad, I'm so ecstatic about it. But all anyone's said so far is that we're too young. Too inexperienced. It won't work. We're setting ourselves up for disappointment. I thought that maybe you all would be a little more supportive, ya know, being your only child. But whatever. I'm going home. I'll send you an invitation."

I unlocked the door to my car, and got in, turning the music up as loud as I could. My dad just stood there, staring, maybe wondering if he did something wrong, or maybe wondering if I was doing something wrong.

I was wondering the same things to be honest.

_My hope is on the horizon,_

_Every face, it's your eyes I can see._

"That one looks like a rabbit," Jake said, pointing somewhere to the left.

"It looks like a cloud," I grumbled, sitting up in the grass. We'd been out here—_cloud_ _gazing_—for nearly an hour and a half. And I had better things to do than sit out here, laying in the grass with God knows what kinds of bugs crawling all over me, _cloud gazing_. Not to mention this six pound baby in my uterus was _completely_ crushing my bladder.

"What's with you today?" Jake asked, finally fed up with my attitude. "You've been pissy all day."

I glared for a second. "Well, one, I'm pregnant. Two, I've gotta pee every three minutes because I'm pregnant. Three, my hormones are all wacked out because of the whole, ya know, being pregnant. Four, I'm fat as a cow because—"

"You're pregnant," Jake finished, rolling his eyes. This conversation had been an almost daily occurrence lately. "But you know what? You're going to love that little thing so much—"

"Boy," I said, staring at some grass.

"What?"

"This little thing. It's a boy."

"Are you serious?"

"No, I'm Harry," I smirked, finally looking at him. And god, I love looking at him. The smile was ear to ear, and he leaned in to kiss me.

That's when the pain came.

It was completely indescribable, and so horrendous that stars appeared in my vision.

But I knew, deep inside, that something was terribly, terribly wrong.

And the growing puddle of blood on my jeans was simply concrete evidence.

_I plead, I pray though each night and day_

I started going to church soon after the miscarriage. Every Sunday, without fail. I don't know why. I've never been particularly religious. But maybe I thought that there might be some answers that I was missing. Why my son was taken away from me before I could even get to know him. Why I suddenly became depressed whenever Jake came home. Why he suddenly smelled like beer, and sometimes worse, most times when he came to bed. Why I was wondering whether my parents were right in their precautions.

I prayed harder. Thinking that it might make a difference. And at first it did. But soon, we started arguing more and more often. That spark that had been in our relationship for the first ten or so years was gone. Replaced by agony, and daily reminders of what we couldn't have.

Our son.

A family.

Happiness.

I know other people were happy without children, but…losing our son seemed to have created a huge chasm between us. And at this point, neither one of us truly wanted to cross it.

_Our embrace is only a dream._

I started noticing some things.

The way I scarffed down dinner, then hid in my office until he was asleep.

The way he avoided eye contact when we did happen to be in the same area.

The way I wanted to hold him again. So badly. And the way that I just couldn't bring myself to do it.

It was both of our faults. I know that. And finally, one day, neither of us could take it anymore.

"Goddammit, Jake, would you just listen for one _fucking_ minute?" I screamed. He was standing on the complete other side of the room, breathing slowly, in a way I had come to recognize very well. He was doing his best not to transform. "I just want to talk with you about—"

"About what? About how you cheated on me?" he yelled back, his glaring eyes meeting mine. My jaw dropped. How I _what_ now? "Embry told me he saw you at some bar, flirting with some asshole and then you left with him! You _left_ with him, Ronnie! How could you _fucking_ do this to me? To _us_?"

I reeled back through memories in my head. I'm pretty sure I'd remember cheating on someone, especially since it was something I'd sworn never to do. I'd seen the effects, ya know. Bar, guy, leaving with guy…

"God, you're not even denying it," Jacob said, almost sobbed. The tone of his voice had gone from furious to depressed. He sat down on the ragged chair we'd gotten from his dad. "God, oh god."

I walked over, and grasped his face between my hands. Butterflies erupted in my stomach. Which was completely inappropriate, but I hadn't touched him in so long…can you really blame me? "Jake, I'm trying to think, okay? I've never cheated on you—ever. I'm just trying to think of when I was—"

Oh.

It was a year after the miscarriage. Almost to the day. I had gone to the bar because it had seemed a good idea at the time. A couple of my friends from work had gone with me, more out of awkward support than wanting to be there for me. I met this guy, and we started talking. And I'll admit, I flirted a little bit. And he flirted back. And it felt _good_. It felt amazing to be wanted. Then he mentioned that his car was broken down. And being in a relationship with the car maniac which is Jacob Black, you learn a few things about cars. So I left with him, and I fixed his car. And that was that. No sex, no kissing, nothing but flirting, and a blown gasket.

And I explained this to Jake. And I apologized. And I started crying, and hugging myself to him like I hadn't done in so long.

"No one can compare to you, Jake, no one. I need you to believe that. I need you," I whispered into his chest. He took a shaky breath, and finally hugged me back.

_And as sure as days come from moments, each hour becomes a life's time._

_When she'd left, I'd only begun this lullaby_

It was two days before my thirtieth birthday. Quil and Embry had come by to kidnap Jake for a little bit, go and visit Bella and her family or something. I didn't really mind at that point. Jake and I had recovered from, well, everything. And it was fantastic. But every now and then, it's nice to have some time to yourself. So I was sitting and reading a book, enjoying the quiet apartment.

I started humming the song Jake had sung to me all those years ago, when I first learned about the whole vampires and werewolves business. Although apparently they're not really werewolves. Which makes sense. Since they don't need the moon to transform. They're just shapeshifters or something. I don't really understand it. But the tune had randomly come into my mind, and I'd been humming the damn thing for the past few days.

After a while, I realized that I'd been staring at the same sentence for the past ten minutes, so I decided to make some dinner. Nothing special, just some chicken, rice and vegetables. I heard the front door open, and peeked around the corner.

Well fuck.

Jake just stood there. And she just stood there. And I just stood there.

We were all some fucked up triangle.

And that's when I recognized the strange feeling coursing through my blood, the goosebumps spreading from my back to my toes. My heart pounded in my ears as she and I stared each other down.

Holy fucking God.

"Who the fuck is this?" I asked, cursing myself as my voice shook. "Jake?"

Nobody said anything for a minute. The woman looked between us before stepping towards me with her claw held out.

I scrambled backwards into the kitchen, grabbing at the first thing I could. I held the spatula (spatula? Goddammit!) above my head in the most threatening manner I could.

"Get the hell away from me!" I screamed. The woman froze, her smile faded, and we both looked at Jacob. "Who the fuck are you? What are you doing in my house?"

"This is Renesmee," Jacob finally managed to say, his voice shaking worse than an autumn leaf, "and she—um—she's my imprint."

"Your what?"

"Imprint. It's pretty rare, but basically, it's like we were made for each other. The first time you see them, you just know that you were made for each other," he rambled. It took a few seconds for what he was saying to sink in. My voice wavered as I spoke, dangerously close to tears.

"So," I paused, licking my lips, hoping that the tears would hold off for a few more minutes. "You're in love with it—her?"

All he could do was shrug.

That's all he had to do.

I flung the spatula at his head (almost hit him, too) and started throwing my clothes into a suitcase. Jake followed me into the bedroom, trying to explain himself. He'd never met her before, he didn't know, he never thought it would happen to him, blah blah _blah_. I didn't care anymore. I pushed him aside and reached the front door, pausing for a split second.

"I'll send you the divorce papers." I was just satisfied that I wasn't sobbing yet.

And I slammed the door on the life that I'd had for the past thirteen years.

I guess the world used up its supply of happy endings on Disney and his princesses.


End file.
